Demon King of the Sixth Heaven
by Birdflue
Summary: A young Issei stumbles across and into a blood red circle and fuses with the heroic spirit Oda Nobunaga.
1. Prologue

Issei Hyoudou wasn't always perverted. He had been a bright child once, innocent as could be. Well, perhaps not so bright, but still innocent once. He had been the childhood friend and budding crush of Irina Shidou.

The two had been inseparable, best friends playing together nearly every day they had the opportunity to. Despite all their years together, Issei had never realized Irina was a girl. Regardless, they were together through thick and thin, expanding their small worlds every day even as the beast known as adolescence drew near.

All things came to an end though, and so did Issei and Irina's friendship. Not voluntarily, the two rarely if ever fought, both of the same compassionate temperment. Irina and her family had to move back to England, cutting the pair apart. As expected, Issei was crushed. He became somewhat withdrawn, losing some of the almost ceaseless optimism children possessed. Alone, he wandered through the park near home, missing Irina.

One day while stumbling through the park, Issei stumbled across something life changing. If his path had not been changed, he would come across an old gentleman upon a bench. A kind old man, who had a penchant for a certain part of the female body. Instead, he stumbled upon the machination of a perhaps less-well-intentioned old man, in the form of a magical circle.

It was intricate, three circles centered around an eight-pointed star. Some indecipherable language covered every inch of the circles, larger glyphs and scrawlings in circles filling the space amid the star and surrounding circle.

Issei stared at the dark red circle for a few moments, entranced, before looking around to see if there was anybody else to confirm what he was seeing. There was nobody. The park was dead silent, no bug or bird or car creating noise. The mystical circle was inviting, its obviously magical properties clear to Issei. He was at the age where disbelief set in, and belief in the fantastical waned. Yet still did he stare at the circle, a thousand scenarios running through his brain.

He almost turned away, contemplated running home or even flagging some stranger from outside the park, before working up the nerve to step closer. He gripped his Gameboy tighter, and walked forwards, eyes locked on the blood red circle.

So intently was Issei staring at the circle, he did not pay attention to his surroundings. Stepping upon a loose pebble, he slipped and fell face-forward toward the circle. He panicked, and tried to cover his face instead of halting the approaching impact.

Had he not ducked his face into his arms, he would have seen the dull red of the circle begin glowing. Issei didn't get the chance to see, as he had already fallen unconscious.

Issei stood in a blank white landscape. Panting, he looked around the empty world where the circle had brought him. Before he could begin panicking, a voice cut through the silence.

"Hey kid," a girl said. Red eyes met his, and Issei nearly screamed. In a burst of unprecedented adrenaline-driven thought, he realized perhaps screaming at a katana wielding witch was a poor decision.

The witch in question was an imposing figure. Her wide smile beneath of her military cap oozed malice. Her outfit seemed less for sorcery than for combat he thought, a pristine red cape and uniform, not to mention the katana, hilt-upwards, that she rested her gloved hands upon. Her stance emitted an air of solemnity that demanded respect, demanded obedience, demanded fear.

"Do not be afraid," she said, which had the exact opposite effect. Issei could see it now, the witch carving him to pieces with the sword, throwing the bloody chunks into a boiling cauldron. He should have stayed away, he should have run. It was too late now though, he thought, dropping to the ground and curling into a ball.

He clenched his teeth, not wanting to accept that he was to die yet knowing it would arrive all the same. His smiling parents came to mind, warning him to stay away from dangerous objects and people.

"We're going to do great things together," the girl said, her smirk so potent it was audible. Issei whimpered, tears leaking from his forcefully shut eyes when he felt an ice cold grip on the back of his neck. He had no doubt to whose hand was clamped to his neck.

"But first, something needs to be done with that body of yours," Issei heard the witch continue as a second hand gripped his neck.

Her hands were so colder than death, so frozen it felt like they were burning his skin. In fact, Issei wasn't sure if they were cold or hot anymore. He was too busy screaming, his eyes forced open by the intense pain.

"Here's to a wonderful partnership!" she said. The once blank world was burning, the fires of hell everywhere. A massive shadow loomed from behind him, almost skeletal in appearance. It was ignored in favor of the new burning taking place on his left hand.

The pain on his neck seemed tame in comparison to the utter hell his left arm and hand felt. Issei writhed over the ground, tears scorched away by the omnipresent fire clutching his arm. It felt like his body was burning from the inside out. The pain was too much to bare, and Issei whited out, falling into blissful unconsciousness. The fires began to die out, until the landscape was blank once more.

Issei awoke with a start for the second time, laying face down in the ground. He lifted his head and body up, ordering his thoughts. With a yelp, he pushed off the ground all the way. His prized Gameboy clattered onto the ground, dropped from his gloved hand. Issei backed away from the dull red circle, his heartbeat accelerating.

On some unknown instinct, his right hand reached down and pulled a gleaming katana from the sheath at his side to face the magical circle. Issei felt safer, until he realized he never had used a katana or carried one with him. He also didn't wear hats, yet he felt the fabric of one clamped around his head.

With a practiced motion that he had never practiced, Issei rotated the curved blade to face its flat edge toward him.

Reflected before his eyes was the witch that had burned him alive. Somewhat younger, but the same clothes she had worn were on him now.

" _Surprise!"_ the witch's voice echoed in Issei's head as he nearly dropped the katana in shock.

His body moved to attention, looking around for the source of the voice. Even as his mind panicked, the blade in his hands sought a target.

"W-what do you want?" came the witch's voice from his own throat. "What did you do to me?"

It was strange to hear her voice trembling, and from himself. The few words she had spoken were filled with steel, hardened compared to Issei's trembling speech.

" _Hyoudou Issei,"_ the echo came. Issei shuddered, spinning to face nothing again. " _Circumstances have bound us together,"_ it said. His right hand, twitched and sheathed the katana despite Issei's struggling against it. His face turned from a grimace of fear into a smile, and he found himself sitting down.

"I'd like to introduce myself first however," Issei found himself saying. He wanted to scream, but couldn't. "My name is Oda Nobunga. Remember it well."

* * *

"We happen to be sharing a body, you and I," he said, or rather _she_ said. Tears welled up in his left eye, the right unresponsive.

The name sent shivers down his spine. The most infamous Japanese man in history, a true demon king, who now held Issei's body captive.

"You flatter me," she said, smirking with his face. "I am _that_ Nobunga, though I am no man. I suggest you relax," she said, looking upwards toward the sky.

"So to start off, I'm dead. You could think of me as a spirit possessing you I guess," she said, stretching. "Normally I'd be fighting for some Holy Grail, but it seems there isn't one to fight over this time." She tugged down a grey glove, glancing at the red seals inscribed into the back of his hand. Her hand, Issei corrected himself.

"Why? Well, it's cause you fell in that magic circle," Oda said, glancing at the circle shrugging. "I don't know who drew it, or for what reason. It called me from…" she considered the age and knowledge of the child whose body she had changed, "...hell."

Issei imagined the witch/demon king beheading his parents and drinking sake from their skulls. If he could cry, he would be.

"We shouldn't be alive, both of us, to be honest," she said. Issei didn't understand a word she said. "That left hand of yours… it's the only reason from what I can tell."

He was burning, his parents were burning, everything was burning.

"LISTEN UP," she shouted, her voice cutting through Issei's panicked thoughts. The voice of a general who led 3,000 troops against 25,000 and emerged victorious, it was a voice that could not be denied. Those who did, _burned_.

"I'd never do any of that stuff, unless your parents became my sworn enemies," she said, rolling his eyes. "We need to lay down some ground rules kid," she said.

"This was your body, and I'm willing to give two options for you," she said, raising two fingers on one hand. "The second option is to merge, our memories, our souls, our existence in general. Two beings becoming one sort of business. I get the feeling I'll still come out on top," Oda said tilting her head as if she were speaking to somebody in front of her. Dropping her middle finger, she continued.

"Option number one is we stay like we are right now, me able to take the reins whenever I want to," she said. Issei didn't question why she gave the second option first, and thought about it for a second.

"Just kidding, option one it is," Oda said giving a short laugh. "I like being myself, retainer. I'll be staying up here," she tapped their shared head, "until you need me kid."

Letting out peal of crazed laughter, Oda's hold vanished. Issei fell backwards like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He regretted it, as the long length of hair trailing behind him slid beneath him, pulling his head backwards. His cape didn't help either, causing him to slip even further.

Issei wanted to cry after what he had been through. To nobody's surprise, he did just that.

He was still sniffling, feeling the flames, the helplessness when the sun had begun to set. Not even his mother's call roused him from the hell his mind was still in. His mother's voice came closer and closer, until she was right beside him. From when he had found the circle to now, not a single bystander had come to help him. One didn't help a cosplayer splayed out in front of what looked like a demonic circle. The few passersbys who had seen her hadn't wanted to find out if her sword was real either.

"Excuse me miss," her comforting voice came, full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Mama," he said, pressing his snotty and teary face to her stomach. A few more desperate sobs wracked his body.

Mrs. Hyoudou stood silently as the stranger buried her face into her chest. She frowned, looking at the ominous circle on the ground. It had been broken, smeared by bootmarks, shoemarks, handprints. Mrs. Hyoudou's eyes widened as they settled upon a discarded object, a Gameboy. It was her son's she was sure of it, the scratchy _Hyoudou Issei_ on the back a familiar sight to her eyes.

To her dismay, the strange little girl was still clamped around her waist and showed little intention of letting go. Issei hadn't come home close to on time, far off his normal return around four o'clock for an afternoon snack, and outright missing dinner time at six. His meal still sat cold, awaiting a bright young face to consume it.

She narrowed her eyes at the girl, the person who must have known something.

"I f-found this circle mom, and I fell in and there was-" Issei's jaw locked, and he found himself wordless.

" _None of that kid,"_ Oda's voice sounded. His mother didn't seem to hear Oda, a look of confusion from his rushed speech the only expression on her face rather than fear or wariness.

"I t-turned into a girl mom," Oda said with his mouth. "It's me, Issei," she continued, letting crocodile tears slide past actual tears.

Issei could only watch, watch the spirit putting words into his mouth. Or rather her own mouth, his own voice was already gone.

* * *

While Issei himself probably thought his mother fooled, Oda knew better. People walking into magic circles one gender and transforming into the other was not something accepted as a logical excuse without sufficient evidence. Memories could be extracted, mannerisms could be imitated. Magic wasn't something the public heard or believed in, and unless by some fluke the Hyoudou matriarch did, she would know something was wrong, just from Oda's mana signature. A servant, even bound in mortal flesh was no trifling thing.

If she had let Issei, poor traumatized Issei, try to present an explanation for why he was now a long-haired girl in military clothes, no doubt he would find himself in a very poor situation. He would grow stronger with these experiences, more cunning, more vicious, more brutal. Or _she_ rather. Issei was no longer a he, her spitting image instead. But even before he had become her host, she saw in him the spark of greatness, just like that monkey Hideyoshi possessed.

The knowledge the grail provided summoned servants had come, despite the absence of the grail. Even the knowledge was unwhole, the magical situation of their surroundings not given at all. The situation was more and more worrying. A mysterious nonpresent mage, no grail, and to top it off, an abnormality within her very own host and master.

Oda didn't even consider the event a coincidence. A boy capable of hosting heroic spirits stumbling into such a circle in broad daylight, in the middle of a public park was far too coincidental to actually be coincidental. There were no such things as coincidences in Oda's experience. Luck was just yet another factor in the grand scheme of things, and as such could be faked or mitigated.

She had been granted new life in a form and thus she would make the most of it. Not for conquest or bloodshed, she had her fill of such before. The dream of a unified Japan had already become reality, one of the world's most prosperous countries, united and glorious. She was free, free to do whatever she pleased.

* * *

A/N: Sleep deprivation and too much F/GO resulted in this madness. Perhaps crack Ideas must break free from the shackles of logic and good taste. Originally the servant Issei got slammed into him was going to Astalfo...

Critique please, I only know DxD through wikis. You may wonder why I'm writing a dxd fic then. I don't know either. Point out those spelling and grammar mistakes I made, cause it's three in the morning and my eyes are incapable of proper functions that eyes should.


	2. Chapter 1

Who was Oda Nobunaga? What had compelled such a man or woman, to turn from a slouch so lazy, one of their tutors _killed themselves_ in a pique of anguish, to the demon king that conquered half of Japan, whose subordinates united the country after their death.

Issei tossed and turned in bed. The fires of the Mount Hiei had left no physical marks, no scars or burns. All Issei could remember was the pain, the all-consuming inferno he had burned in. Back and forth, Issei turned. Sleep only came in the early hours of the morning, a reprieve.

* * *

She was crying, her tears of bitter regret streaming down her face. But instead of sadness, she was angry. Furious at the world, her family, but most of all, herself. Ice cold stares full of disdain, came from all sides, watching her bawl head out, watched her scream in rage. After what felt like an eternity, she had brushed past all the fine dressed men and ladies, to be alone. Heaving desperate breaths, she slammed a fist against the wall. It stung like hell, but she had never cared much for pain. She pummeled it again and again, until her fist was mangled and the wall had a large gaping hole.

The absolute fury she held toward the world, had died down. She'd barely even known the man she cursed, the man who called father that only could give disapproval. Not once did she remember a time when she had been viewed with anything other than disappointment and distaste. Her mother, her siblings, they all stayed away from her foolish self. The last time she'd seen her shitty old man, he'd labeled her the future head of the Oda clan to the horror of friends and family.

Why, why the most useless child, the so called Fool of Owari, why her? She cursed again, cursed her father, her mother, her siblings, everything. After she let out all her curses, all the things she had wanted to say, into the silent courtyard, the only thing that remained on her face was a smile.

It was the first time she had such a smile of contentment. It would not be the last. When she cut her treasonous Uncle's head off, a devil in the night. When she crushed the other fools in Owari, becoming the province's sole leader. When she had laid low her foe's armies, their demoralized fragments absorbed into her own. When she had kindly told the Shogun she was in power now. When she had found witnessed the wonder of foreign armaments, guns and the change they represented. When she had stood upon the burning husk of Mount Hiei, every single person who had lived there dead. When she had watched clan leaders commit suicide in front of her, their skulls repurposed as vessels to drink from. When she had died, her own sword in her chest as the temple of Honnouji burned around her.

For now though, all she could do was smile. The disapproving whispers surrounded her, the vicious words from faces just out of sight babbling like a brook. Nobunaga, the fool. Nobunaga the lazy. Nobunaga the useless, they whispered.

Soon the vipers in this den would learn respect, or barring that, fear. If they would still spit and hiss on her, they could also learn death.

* * *

Issei woke with a smile on his face. He had a dream, but he had forgotten its contents. His grasped at the fragments, but the few images he remembered slipped away too as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Making his way to the drawer, he was about to get dressed when his eye landed on the uniform and cap left on his dresser.

He froze and whimpered. Dropping into a ball, tears began to stream out of his face. Suddenly, they dried up, and his body pushed itself off the floor to face the window.

"Boy," his mouth said, "we all die. Me, you, your parents, everyone dies. Me killing your parents? They'd die one day no matter what I could do. From the moment we are born, our final destination is determined. Don't fear death." Issei wanted to deny her words but he couldn't.

"Pain, injury hurt," she continued, staring at the wispy reflection in the glass, "don't feel good do they?" His right arm rose and pinched the left. It was a stung, yet paled in comparison to the hellfire Issei had endured. Even though a bruise was forming under his fingers, comparing the hurt he felt now to yesterday's events. "Doesn't hurt much does it?" she asked. "Sometimes hardship makes us stronger."

Issei would have nodded, except he was not in control. Nobunaga stopped moving, and stared into the glass. A frown made its way onto Issei's face. Issei tried to move after a whole minute of silent staring had passed. He couldn't.

"Overgrown lizard," Nobunaga muttered. "What was I talking about? Ah, pain." As if she had never paused, Nobunaga resumed talking. "You fear me because I can hurt you, hurt your family. How do you solve this problem?" she asked.

Issei thought as fast as he could, but had no answer. His left eye began leaking tears as he awaited her punishment. A scoff erupted from his mouth.

"All you need to do is get stronger. Will crying or living in fear solve your problem? Will you escape your despair, you suffering if you live in your fear? You hold great strength within you. You've already experienced the fires of hell, nothing in this world can compare to the pain you endured. No opportunities come freely, the future must be seized!"

Nobunaga's voice rose with every sentence, from a whisper to a near shout. Her words echoed around Issei's brain, a goal, a destination, an answer.

Three loud knocks sounded on the door. Nobunaga twitched and fell backward onto the bed, ruining the serious mood she had cultivated.

"Is there something wrong?" came a muffled voice.

"Nothing, just messing with my voice," Nobunaga responded, lifting herself back up into a sitting position.

"Okay, breakfast's ready too," Mrs. Hyoudou called out.

"Don't dissapoint me," Nobunaga whispered, relinquishing control to Issei. Expecting the switch this time around, Issei caught himself from falling down. He pushed down his tumultuous feelings, and stood up, taking a deep breath. The phantom pains were crushed by his will, his will to grow stronger, but mostly in an attempt to not disappoint Nobunaga.

There had been a long talk at breakfast with Issei's mother and father. After answering every question they had, Mr. and Mrs. Hyoudou were forced to acknowledge, yes, their son had somehow become a girl. While Issei's memory was not stellar, Nobunaga interjected the answers he had forgotten sometimes. His lack of knowledge related to certain trick questions only cemented his validity.

After his interrogation and subsequent tearful apologies from his parents, the conversation moved into a more awkward direction. Even if Issei had transformed into a girl, unless his records had transformed too, there would be issues. As a young child, Issei didn't really know the difference between boys and girls. Boys were boys, and girls were girls. Becoming a member of the opposite sex was more discomforting due to the fact that his face and voice were the same as Nobunaga's than the fact he was now a girl.

Records couldn't be changed. Until Issei was twenty, there was nothing that could be done legally to change the gender on his official documents. When Issei's parents raised the extreme option of surgery, Nobunaga rose to shut that option down. She rather liked her body.

Other problems included the fact Nobunaga only held a passing resemblance to Issei. Red eyes were also not natural or acceptable at all. Thankfully, contacts could rectify it as such. Issei himself had no idea what his parents were talking about half the time. The stressed expressions on their faces stopped him from interrupting. He wasn't suicidal enough to ask Nobunaga questions either.

The sword lay in the center of the table, another unanswered question. The discussion had gotten so serious Issei's parents sent him to his room, trying to shield him from the topics they now discussed. Issei laid back on his bed, listening to the muffled echoes of his parents talking. His Gameboy reminded him too much of yesterday's events, and he didn't have the enthusiasm to read a book or manga.

It occurred to him Nobunaga had never presented a way for him to grow stronger, merely encouraged it. He tried out some pushups, and was surprised to find they were easy. So easy in fact, he quit not out of fatigue but boredom, losing count somewhere in the hundreds. He hadn't even broken a sweat. Sit ups, stretches, they all were too easy. He kept on doing them not for exercise, but to keep his mind from wandering back to yesterday's events.

Lunchtime arrived late, and Issei found his appetite near bottomless. Food and drink disappeared down his throat as if it were a black hole. He hadn't felt hungry though, just eating and drinking failed to make him full.

A certain familiar feeling struck him, and he made his way to the bathroom automatically. Thankfully his mother had noticed, and rushed over to avert the mess that could have been created.

Mrs. Hyoudou decided to pause her talk with her husband to give Issei a crash course on being a girl.

Dinner was a somber affair somehow, the worries and doubts hanging over the table like a sword. It was dead silent, each of the eaters lost in their own thoughts. Issei left after the meal, still puzzling on ways to get stronger, each more ridiculous than the last. He flipped through some of his favorite manga, looking for inspiration in hot-blooded shounen protagonists. Sometimes Nobunaga would assume control, pausing to reread an interesting page. He tried his best to ignore it.

Taking a bath was rather same, except for the hair products loaded upon him that his mother insisted on. What happened afterwards, drying and combing the veritable carpet of hair was where the difficulty lay. His mother helped, but it still took far longer than washing did. It had been a messy tangle, but now he looked like Nobunaga even more now.

His body was close enough in size to his previous form that he could wear the clothing. A little baggy, but definitely wearable.

He fell asleep after hours of tossing and turning again, lulled to sleep by the sound of his parents talking from their room. Eventually their conversation ended as they too went to sleep.

The house was silent, it's occupants resting. In the early hours of morning, something scratched against the front door. When no response came, the sound of scrabbling against a lock came, and the door opened silently. Eight inhuman limbs made their way into the sleeping home.

* * *

A/N :Spend more time to write less! Find the repeated spelling mistake in the last chapter fixed in this one! This chapter took so much uncomfortable googling...


	3. Chapter 2

Stray devils were a blight in places where devils dwelled. From the conception of the evil pieces system they became. Rating games encouraged devils to seek the strongest champions to join their peerages, to be reincarnated as a devil. Oftentimes personality was overlooked for martial, mental, or magical power. Morals never played into the equation.

By the time the devils realized the danger in giving out power to unscrupulous and the insane, the damage had been done. Hundreds of thousands of devils who held no allegiance to their pureblood masters, having either fled or killed them, had flooded into the world. Stray devils were ordered to be killed on sight, and strict warnings were given to all those who held evil pieces.

Still, there would be devils daring or stupid enough to ignore the warnings. The world of devils was such that prestige meant everything, and the most prestige could only be gained through one method. Rating games, where power was vital. While there were alternative ways to rise up the meritocracy devils had, it was either too tedious, or required a war, which devils hadn't experienced in hundreds of years.

One such stray was making its way into the Hyoudou residence. Like a massive spider, the eight-legged and six-eyed monster scuttled through the house.

Once, the creature had been an ordinary human being. Perhaps it might have been beautiful or handsome, but now no such statements could be made. Paper-thin flesh stretched over its many bones. Blotchy rashes coated its pale skin, from months out of sunlight. Two pairs of extra arms erupted from its torso, while its legs had become so deformed they were indistinguishable from the other appendages. Instead of feet, it had yet another pair of hands, forcing it to crawl along the ground like the spider it resembled.

It hungered, for flesh, for blood, for magic. Uncontrolled demonic taint had reduced to a cursed state where it endlessly hungered but could never be sated. At night it rose from its hiding places, and prowled under the moonlight for unsuspecting victims. It had fled to this backwater town where there were few devils and even fewer exorcists. The abandoned ruins of a church where the only evidence there had even been exorcists in Kuoh to begin with.

Last night, the devil had awoken to taste sweet wisps of mana in the air, leading to a certain household. It had observed a sleeping girl emitting a strange, irresistible mana signature. It had never tasted anything like it. Perhaps its eternal hunger could finally be sated.

No doubt the other devils had sensed the mana bleeding off the girl, so it had to hurry. The stray devil previously retreated from the household when it became clear the girl wasn't going to fall asleep. It didn't have patience or self-control past the few remnants of personality that remained within it. Tonight though, it was ready.

Even as its instincts screamed that its target was dangerous, it went deeper into the home. Creatures that emitted noticeable amounts of mana were using that mana for a purpose, to empower themselves usually. Past two sleeping humans, perhaps deserts for later.

Once it had slammed open doors, crashed through windows with reckless abandon. Discolored blotches of regenerated flesh testified to why it did so no longer. Magic users or magical beings were no weaklings. Carefully opening the door, it entered the room of its target. Like a shark tasting blood in the water, the devil grew less and less restrained as it came up to the sleeping girl, trembling in anticipation.

Its maw churned with poisonous saliva. One drop landed on the girl it towered over. The colorless droplet ate away at her skin, a red blossom growing where it had landed. The sleeping girl's fitful sleep worsened, her face scrunching up in discomfort. The paralytic properties of the liquid numbed nerves, unnoticeable in small quantities. The stray devil opened its jaw wide, two incisors slick with venom prepared to sink into the girl.

A small fist lashed out, latching onto one of the devil's limbs. A horrible snapping sound issued from the limb. The devil found itself staring into red eyes devoid of mercy or compassion. Raising another hand, a gilded rifle materialized out of thin air in the girl's grip. It was an antique, a gun from the fifteen hundreds called an arquebus. The girl twisted her weapon just in time to jam it up the monster's throat as it lunged for her. The girl was about to pull the trigger, when she suddenly realized something, stopping herself from blowing the devil's head off.

The stray devil took advantage of the pause, whipping its other arms at the girl, all while trying to dislodge the arquebus lodged in its gullet, but could not. The girl dropped the devil's broken limb, reaching down for a phantom sword that wasn't there. Grasping nothing, she blocked the clawed limb aimed at her heart, snapping it with contemptuous ease. She was smiling now, a devil's smile. Gone was the appearance of fear or discomfort. The aura of a devil, no, the aura of a demon oozed from her. A miasma of bloodlust and hatred so thick it was almost tangible filled the room.

"What might you be," the girl asked, narrowing her eyes. She scratched her chin with a finger, before intercepting another claw and snapping the arm it was attached to. The devil would have screeched in pain, but the rifle up its throat turned it to more a whimper. It swayed and fell forward onto the girl's bed, spewing venom all over the sheets as it tried to remove the arquebus.

The scene mirrored a curious child plucking the legs off an ant or other insect. The girl was toying with the devil, not fighting seriously in the slightest. She seemed more interested in the weak regeneration the creature exhibited than its attempts weakening attempts to kill her.

The stray devil's rage and anger had been replaced with fear. Fear of overwhelming power. Fear of of pain. Fear of death. Too many of its limbs had been broken for it to escape, and every attack it initiated had failed. The stray devil was an ambush predator, a creature that relied on surprise and not much else. The poison had been effective when she was sleeping, but now the venom was vaporised on her skin rather than the other way around.

Pressing an ear to the wall, the girl listened. Turning back to the cowering creature, she opened the window and lifted it with a single hand. The sheer malevolence radiating from her had vanished, leaving her an ordinary girl once more. She tossed the devil out, and grabbed her cap before following.

* * *

Servants and demi-servants didn't require sleep. They could enjoy it, but didn't feel fatigued if they went without it. Nobunaga Oda was no different. She didn't sleep at night, staying on guard through the early morning hours.

The modern world was just so exciting for Nobunaga. In the scant few hundred years since her death, the world had become so advanced. People traveled in cars, trains, machines of metal on land on the sea, and in the sky. The knowledge the grail provided was not enough. She wanted to see the Japan of today, to see what her actions had created.

Watching Issei's memories was how she spent her time, learning more about modern culture, life, people. The knowledge given to her to fit in was not enough. The array of culture was so extreme, and Nobunaga wanted to experience all of it. She wouldn't forget that someone had drawn the circle her host had stumbled into on purpose.

Her viewing of Issei's memories was interrupted by the warning signals she felt. She had let her guard down in the morning, a mistake she would not repeat. She heard the downstairs door slip open, the muted sound of something coming up the stairs, finally the creak of a door as the intruder entered the bedroom.

She held back the urge to wrest control from sleeping Issei and combat the new arrival. She still waited for whoever stood above her to let their guard down. A drop of something landed on her, upsetting the sleeping body. She took direct control, dragging Issei into the waking world with her motions.

To Nobunaga's surprise, it wasn't a person that stood over her. Not a person anymore anyways. She didn't let the surprise show, moving to snap one of the abomination's many limbs. Issei was screaming, but she didn't have time to send a message. The devil was upon her, aiming to bite her flesh.

Materializing a rifle, she slammed it up the monster's throat. Even though she never possessed the ability in life, her movements were clean and perfect. About to pull the trigger, she stopped herself when she realized the troubles that would result from the action. A gunshot from her arquebus would not be quiet. It would waken the entire neighborhood and bring the authorities running, and she was not quite ready to experience what the penal system was. Or perhaps this world's mages.

While Nobunaga's stats should have been reduced due to the poor mana producing capabilities of her host, they remained normal. It was clear she wasn't in her home dimension, considering the mana saturating the world. She could operate at full parameters without worrying too much about mana consumption and upkeep, a good thing since she couldn't exactly shift into astral form to eat ghosts. Her strength was enough to snap her attacker's brittle bones with ease.

Thinking about it, Nobunaga realized it made sense for there to be such creatures. In a world full of magic, there would be magical creatures. She reached down for her sword, only to remember it was in another room. Blocking another attack, she snapped another leg like one would snap a stick of celery.

"What might you be?" she asked the creature as it thrashed around. Any glimmer of intelligence in tits eyes had gone, so maddened was the monster. Nobunaga eyed the creature, pondering its purpose. A once-human or human-resembling revenant that felt demonic in nature, a mindless predator. Unfortunately for the devil, Nobunaga was a far larger monster.

Ignoring Issei's shrieks, she broke another one of the demon-spider's limbs. He was a little young to be witnessing such events, she admitted. His screaming she could ignore. Her heartbeat rapidly accelerating, a sense of irrational terror overcoming her body less so. Issei had far more control of the body than she had let on.

Crushing the feelings, Nobunaga intercepted another limb, leaping off the bed as the monster crashed into it. The creature was so starved it's impact was nearly silent. Only the slight creak of the mattress could be heard, the attempts to retch the weapon still up its throat far more audible, though not by much.

As Nobunaga approached to end it, the creature shied away, weakly waving its remaining limbs in the air.

" _Not so scary is it?"_ she thought at her host, who was still in denial that a demon had invaded his home. Pressing her ear to a wall, she checked to see if her host's parents had been wakened by the commotion. They somehow hadn't, so she made a split second decision on what to do with the simpering creature on her bed.

Hefting open the window, Nobunaga let the humid air in, stepping closer to grip the creature's neck and tossing it out. Grabbing her cap off the dresser, she followed out the window. One last despairing glance was given to the room with the monster's venom sprayed all over the room. A demi-servant was immune, but her host's parents wouldn't be so lucky.

Nobunaga landed next to the creature, materializing another rifle and ramming it through one of its hands like a rail spike. It _did_ bleed red, she noted. The creature was a mystery she wanted to get to the bottom of. What was it and why had it come after her were her questions. Since the creature in question didn't seem willing or capable of rational conversation, she would have to do things the hard way. Having her sword would have made her next actions far easier.

Nobunaga was no scientist when it came to the human body so she couldn't really say much on the subject of whether or not the creature was related to humans besides the obvious resemblance. She let the pinning rifle fade, and grabbed the creature again. Using her supernatural agility, she made her way to the park where it had all begun. Like a deranged surgeon, Nobunaga began poking holes in the still-living demon.

From what she could tell, it was pretty much a person. It had all the organs people had she figured. Issei learned all about anatomy, and would have thrown up a dozen times over had he been in control. Nobunaga didn't think it was a demon, perhaps a half-devil instead. It had the aura, but none of the power they were supposed to possess. The creature's regeneration had been quite helpful during the examination when she destroyed a delicate organ. A rifle supported with brute force wasn't the finest of surgical tools.

By the time the sky had begun to brighten, the creature had perished, its regeneration unable to keep up with Nobunaga's grim curiosity. In death it would serve another purpose, a lure for other magical residents of the world. The public at large knew nothing about the existence of magic, which meant some degree of suppression of the information, or the rarity of magic. As the world was overflowing with mana, she doubted the latter.

Whoever the local cleanup crew when it came to such creatures was, would be forced to deal with it, and she would be waiting.

Or clothes shopping, sometimes waiting was boring.

* * *

A/N : I was too lazy to write more content so I wrote the same chapter twice. Kek. Look at me switching around Oda Nobunaga to Nobunaga Oda cause Oda was the last name actually... Oops...


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